by Kyra Jacobs
Vanessa looked from her perfect nails to me, a sneer on her face. “Because her nickname is The Troublemaker. The woman disrupts every department she’s in. They finally moved her down to the mailroom, to keep her from causing any more damage. “
“If she’s such a liability, why don’t they just let her go?”
Vanessa looked back down to her nails. “Because she’s got connections.”
“Oh?”
“Political connections. Rumor has it she’s related to someone big downtown. Milo’s hands are tied. If we let her go, Maxwell might lose the City as a customer. And they’re too big a customer to risk losing.”
“Huh. Well, I’ll try to steer clear of her when I can then. But it’s not like I have much control over who walks into the lunchroom.”
“No, but you can control where you eat. If you stay out of there, you won’t have to deal with her. Oh, I know!” Her face lit up. “Why don’t you and I go out to lunch tomorrow?”
Lunch with Vanessa? Best case scenario, I leave lunch with some leads on Grace’s accident. Worst case, I slip up and say something that would link me back to Grace, and Vanessa ends up putting two and two together. Did the potential benefits outweigh the risk?
Damn right, they did.
“Great idea! Where should we go?”
Vanessa smiled and settled back in her seat. “Hmm…How about Triangle Gardens? They’ve got an awesome salad bar.”
I’d been there before. Dimmed lighting, hushed conversations. The ideal location for a little recon mission.
“Sounds perfect.”
* * * *
I headed straight to Metzler after work that evening, overdue for a Grace fix. The waves of guilt I’d battled with taking her place at Maxwell had finally subsided to mere ripples. Tonight I was about to enter the facility with a semi-clear conscience. It had to be a relatively short visit, though. Brutus was home, waiting.
She looked exactly the same as last time. And while I would have loved to find her awake, now that I was in at Maxwell I really needed her to stay at Metzler. Here she was hidden, safe, while I worked to clear her name and find her attacker.
I took Grace’s hand and lowered myself into the rocking chair beside her bed. Told her how good she looked. How much fun she was missing. How she’d be impressed with the new man in my life. I spoke about anything and everything…except my new day job. That subject was still off limits.
I glanced down at my watch and cursed. Where had the time gone? “Sorry, Grace, but I really should get going. Brutus has got to be doing the pee-pee dance by now.”
I reached down to collect my purse, then stood and headed toward the door. “See you tomorrow.” I glanced back at her one last time. “Gr—”
Grace’s hand hovered in the air, outstretched toward me.
“Grace?” I hurried back across the room and took her hand in both of mine. Excitement pulsed through me. Was this it? Was she waking up?
Her fingers tightened around mine for a brief moment, then returned to her usual relaxed state.
Suddenly I didn’t care if it was too early. Didn’t care that I had yet to solve the mystery surrounding her accident or clear her name. I wanted my best friend back, and I wanted her back now.
“Come on, Grace. Come back to me.”
I squeezed her hand. Eagle-eyed her face for any signs of recognition, any movement.
But none came. And no amount of coaxing on my part resulted in any additional movement on hers. After ten minutes, I reset her hand on the bed and said my good-byes once more. This time, her hand remained at her side. But I refused to let that get me down.
She’d given me a gift today that no one else had: hope.
I hurried to my car in the lot and dialed Nate’s number.
“Hey, there. How was your—”
“She moved, Nate.”
“Who did?”
“Grace.”
There was a brief pause before he spoke again, caution in his voice. “Is she awake?”
“No, but…she’s in there, Nate. And she’s fighting to get out.”
Chapter 21
I checked my network access again first thing Wednesday morning, wanting to get moving on my sleuth work. Now that Grace was showing signs of improvement, I worried that my time to dig for answers might be short. Unfortunately, my credentials today were still at the same, piddly levels as yesterday. So I grabbed my empty coffee mug and headed down the hall in search of the other thing I really wanted right now: coffee.
The hallway was empty and silent, save for the soft murmuring of voices coming from its adjoining offices. I took my time, picking up bits of conversations as I passed each room. But nothing of interest reached my ears…until I neared the lobby.
“You can’t get in?” came an unfamiliar male voice.
“No, I’ve tried twice this week.” Vanessa spoke in a hush. “Maybe I’m doing something wrong.”
I stopped walking and listened.
“Then find a way to do it right,” the man snarled.
“But what if he—”
The faint sound of an electronic buzzer rang out, then a subtle click—the lobby doors had opened. “May I help you?” she asked of the newcomer, her voice back to its usual volume and semi-purr tone.
Another man introduced himself as some vendor, but I tuned him out. I was much more interested in who’d been at Vanessa’s desk. Whoever it was had no interest in the visitor, and began to retreat. His footsteps grew louder; he was headed for my hallway.
I did a quick scan of the hallway behind me. Thankfully, it was still clear—no witnesses meant no having to come up with an explanation for my snooping behavior. I took a deep breath and resumed my forward progress.
The mystery man came into view, but turned away from me, toward the kitchenette, before I could get a good look at his face. I was close enough to get a good look at his attire, though: khakis and a polo shirt.
One of the IT staff.
Maybe Vanessa was having computer issues? Something in my gut rejected the idea as soon as it surfaced. If he had truly been there to help, he wouldn’t have left—from what I’d heard, he hadn’t fixed her problem. And even if he had, his frantic pace tagged him as guilty of something. Or really needing to use the little boy’s room.
I hurried silently after him, hopeful to get a good look at his face and name badge if he did turn in somewhere. He bypassed the bathrooms, and continued on into the kitchenette. Jackpot.
I slowed my pace to near-normal as I reached the end of the hall, took one last deep breath, and stepped into the lunchroom. It was empty.
“What the hell?” I muttered. Then I heard footsteps echo in the distance. A door clicked shut. I turned toward the sound and spied a door on the wall just past the room’s two refrigerators. How had I not seen that before?
I stole across the room, set my mug on the far end of the kitchenette’s counter, and carefully pushed the door open. A dimly lit stairwell came into view. Hurried footsteps hit the landing below, then another set of doors creaked open and shut.
Without thinking, I yanked off my heels and launched down the steps after him. No sooner had I reached the landing than the lower level’s door swung back open. I slid to a halt just before colliding with Nerd B—the one who’d given me the creeps yesterday at lunch.
He stepped into the stairwell and glanced down at my shoes in hand. A sly grin crept onto his face. “Still learning to walk in your big-girl shoes, darling?”
The door clanged shut behind him, the sound ricocheting off the stark cement block walls around us. “Big-girl shoes?” I tried to laugh. To sound confident, cocky. But even I could detect a nervous undertone. “Wow, you’re funny. Maybe you should quit your day job and go audition for Last Comic Standing.”
I set my shoes down, stepped back into them, and moved to brush past him.
But he took a step forward, blocking the way. “Sounds like I’m not the only one with a sense of humor around here. Tell me
, what’s your name, sweetheart?”
If there was one thing I hated, it was being called pet names by strangers. “Sweetheart?” I worked to keep my temper under control and took an involuntary step back. My gaze swept to his ID badge. “Really, Matthew? That’s the best you can do?”
His eyes narrowed.
I took another step back, and felt the handrail press against me. My heart lit into a panicked rhythm as Matthew Findley’s grin turned into a full sneer. Something told me the tune in my chest was one he knew well.
“Oh, I can do much better than that.” His gaze traveled south from my face. He moved closer still. Reached a hand out toward me.
I froze, incapacitated by indecision. Didn’t know if I should scream, or try to knee him, or—
“That’s a beautiful necklace.” His finger touched the hollow of my neck and traced the outline of my pendant.
A forest of goose bumps erupted in response. A new worry entered my mind: would anyone even hear me if I screamed now? And then I remembered—I didn’t need to scream. All I needed to do was push the panic button on my necklace!
Only, how could I push it if the necklace was in someone else’s hand?
“Th-thank you.” I tipped my chin higher. “My boyfriend gave it to me. I should introduce you two sometime. He’s a cop.”
Matthew leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto mine. “Sure he is.”
The clang of a door opening the floor below us sounded, followed by ascending footsteps. Matthew cast a dark look in the direction of the sound, then leaned forward so his mouth was even with my ear. “See ya around, new girl,” he whispered, then turned and walked back out the door from which he’d come.
I reached a shaky hand up and clutched my pendant. Locked the other in a death grip on the handrail for support. The person climbing the stairs from the floor below soon came into view, and I recognized him as one of the sales reps from my department. He nodded on his way by. “How’s it going, Jessica?”
I pasted the smile I could conjure up onto my face. “S-super, thanks.”
* * * *
“This really is my favorite car of all time,” Vanessa said, stroking her Italian leather steering wheel like it was some aristocratic pet of hers.
I looked around, admiring the sleek interior of her Mercedes. “It’s gorgeous, Vanessa. Is it new?”
The first of many compliments today. I had Vanessa all figured out by now—stroke her ego, and she’d repay you with the gift of gab. And because I had no leads whatsoever on my investigation, I planned to stroke that ego of hers all lunch long.
Feed me, baby.
She slid a pair of designer sunglasses into place and pushed a button near the steering column. The engine began to purr. “Oh, no. I’ve had it almost a whole year now.”
“A whole year?”
“I know, it’s far too long to go with the same car. But I’ve just grown so attached to this one. Maybe next summer I’ll just switch to the newer E-class model.”
“Oh yeah, those are pretty slick.” At least I hoped they were. I didn’t know an E-Class from a QRS-Class. I drove a Civic, for goodness sake.
As she pulled out of her parking space, I glanced at the rest of the cars in the front row. Every one of them expensive, pretentious. How could she afford a luxury car on a secretarial salary?
Vanessa headed down East State Boulevard, chatting merrily about her car. And her fancy apartment. And her new Prada bag. Sweet though she was, the woman’s tastes screamed high maintenance.
“…and I have a condo a little east of here. I just love being so close to work—keeps my commute short.”
I nodded and scowled out the passenger-side window. I hated the drive from my house. Hated having to leave the house at all, but I wasn’t going to bring that up. My goal was to learn as much, and share as little, today as possible. To be a sponge, not a leaky faucet. “Oh, yeah? Do you like it over there?”
“It’s alright. Fairly new, spacious. I even get a one-car garage in the unit I’m in, so no scraping ice and snow.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I can understand that. It was a pre-req for me when I moved last time, too.”
“Oh? So you’re somewhere with a garage too?”
Shit. “Um, yeah, but it’s nothing fancy. Just a rental house closer to town.”
“A rental house? For just you?”
It was an innocent enough question. Still, my palms begin to sweat as I came up with a semi-believable lie. “Yeah, but if things go well at work I may think about moving closer to Maxwell.”
“We could be neighbors!” She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
I worked to mimic her excitement level. “Oh, yeah!”
We caught a red light, and Vanessa eased her beloved steed to a stop. She inched those designer shades down her perfect nose and turned to give me a good, long look. “I don’t know what it is about you, Jessica, but you look so familiar.”
My heart skipped a few beats. “Really?”
I rifled through my purse. Sunglasses. I needed a pair of sunglasses to hide behind. Keys, wallet, compact…
“Yeah. Did you grow up around here?”
Where…are…my…damned… It was no use—I must have left them on my desk. “Um, yes.” Another slip. “But, not on this end of town.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and studied my face intently once more.
I gave her an innocent look, then focused on the windshield. The light turned green. “Uh, Vanessa?” I tipped my head toward the intersection.
“Oh, right.” She slid her designer shades back into place and pressed on the gas. “So, you said you live closer to town?”
Damn. So much for me asking all the questions. “Yep.”
“Wow, I don’t know how you do it. I’m terrible with downtown. Always get confused by those crazy changing street names. What’re you close to?”
I kept my eyes on the road ahead, but saw her glance over from the corner of my eye. “Uh…I’m kinda between the river and Coliseum Boulevard.”
“The river?” She laughed. “Which one? Don’t we have, like, two of them or something?”
Three. Okay, so geography wasn’t her strong suite. “Um, gosh, now that you mention it, we do have a couple.” I tried for a convincing laugh. “I can’t remember. All I know is, I’m only like fifteen minutes from Glenbrook.” Five minutes from there, actually…ten during rush hour. But what she didn’t know kept me safer.
“Awesome!” she said, zipping around a car that was taking its time getting into the north turn lane. “I love to shop! We should totally hit the mall together sometime!”
“Sure,” I lied again. Our destination came into view. Time to change the subject. “Wow, I haven’t been to Triangle Gardens in forever.”
“I’ll be honest,” Vanessa said. “I don’t eat here very often. Usually I’m just here for the martinis.”
Martinis? Tasty? Yes. Single-person-with-fancy-car-and-high-end-condo-priced? Not so much. Maybe Vanessa had a sugar daddy tucked away in that oversized Prada of hers.
“Oh. Is there a group of people from work that comes here or something?” I batted my eyes a little, feigning innocence.
Vanessa deftly maneuvered her coupe across two lanes, cutting off at least two box trucks in the process, and slid into Triangle Gardens’ parking lot. “Sometimes. Usually, though, it’s just me and Milo.”
“Milo?”
A grin that would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame stole across Vanessa’s face. “Finnegan. I told you he had fast hands. Trust me, I should know.”
* * * *
“Fifteen?”
Nate was due any minute with carry-out from TJ’s Italian Ristorante. I had the table set and house sufficiently cleaned up. So to pass the remaining time, I’d decided to check my email.
Now I was sorry I had.
“How the hell could I have possibly gotten fifteen requests in just one day?”
A knock at my front door saved me from an enraged pit
y party. I closed my email and snapped my laptop shut. With a sigh, I headed to the front door.
It was going to have to be a short night with Nate.
I swung the door open, blocked Brutus from charging outside with my right foot, and waved Nate in. “Hey there.” I stood on tiptoes to give him a hello peck on the cheek. “Thanks so much for grabbing dinner.”
“You bet,” he said, and grabbed my waist with his free hand to draw me in for a second, more satisfying kiss. He pulled back after a moment and eyed me closely. “Everything okay?”
The smell of classic Fort Wayne Italian fare reached my nose. “Yeah,” I said, taking the bags off his hands. “Just fine. Let’s eat before this all gets cold.”
I dished out the large salad we were splitting—no one does salad like TJ’s—and left our entrees in their aluminum take-out trays. Then I proceeded to fill Nate in on my enlightening luncheon. His eyes grew wider by the minute.
“So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that Vanessa is sleeping with Milo Finnegan? The director of Human Resources?”
I swallowed my bite of salad and reached for the French bread that came with it. “Yep. And he’s married! Can you believe it?”
He shook his head slowly back and forth. “But…why?”
“According to Vanessa, it’s because his wife is always away on business. Says he can’t stand to be alone. You ask me, it’s because Vanessa looks like a freaking super model. And she loves the money he showers on her when the wife is away.”
Nate let out a long whistle. “Sounds like something you’d see on one of the afternoon soaps.” He took another bite of his salad and scowled as he chewed. “But, didn’t she just warn you a few days ago about him being a total perv?”
“She did. And she warned me again today that his hands still wander from time to time.” I shivered at the thought. Thank goodness I hadn’t run into him in the stairwell. “Of course, she made me swear not to breathe a word of this to anyone.”
“Well, my name’s not ‘anyone’, so you’re safe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Har-dee-har-har.”
“Yeah, that was pretty bad.” He sighed. “Sorry. Been a long day.”
